


Shattered

by Sinistretoile



Series: Partners [6]
Category: British Actor RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Ladies' Night, Making Love, Midnight phone call, Minor Character Death, Rough Sex, Sex, girl talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile





	Shattered

A myriad of feminine laughter echoed through the townhouse. Wine glasses clinked. The volume of the music went up. The conversation around the table became animated as they talked about the day to day life of being the female companion, wife, girlfriend of a member of organized crime.  
"So Amelia, what made you and Thomas decide to go public?"  
Amelia finished chewing her bite. She shrugged. "It just seemed like the right time. We'd been sleeping together when schedules allowed for years after meeting at his grandfather's 90th birthday party. Things just progressed." The typical chorused girly sigh went up.  
Mick's wife sipped her wine. "Thanks for this, Amelia. It's nice to get out of the house."  
"How's Darcy?"  
"Oh, she's a hand full. And her daddy's girl."  
The table laughed. "John said that your husband can't shut up about her. 'Four boys and I finally got my girl.' On and on."  
Sophie laughed. "He dotes on every baby, but he's spoiled Darcy rotten and she's only 8 months old."  
Marianne set her wine glass down. She was engaged to Eddie, the thug that took Jakey's place in the organization. "Are there wedding bells in the future?"  
"Or the pitter patter of little feet?"  
Amelia took a moment to figure out these questions were directed toward her. "Thomas and I haven't discussed things like that yet. We're not rushing into anything." Which was true. They'd been fucking like rabbits for a year now and only just admitted to themselves that they loved each other recently. Marriage hadn't been discussed. They were both fairly independent. And children? That'd put a hamper on many things. Their sex life, their business. Not to mention putting them in danger.  
The conversation steered away from uncomfortable topics for Amelia as the meal and the evening went on. While it was nice to have the company of other women, these ladies had families and marriage on their minds. Amelia had overhead for the cat houses, expense accounts for dignitaries, payments to be made to the right individuals and payments to collect. Not to mention, the way the business was changing due to her partnership with Thomas. She'd given him responsibilities within her organization and he'd given her responsibilities within his.  
Amelia rinsed off the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. Sophie brought the last of the wine glasses in and set them on the counter. "I'm glad that you and Thomas are happy."  
"Thank you."  
Sophie finished the last of her wine. "Mick and Thomas have been inseparable since that were rugby players at Eton. It's good to see him with a woman who's not arm candy or just a fuck."  
"Thank you again. I think."  
"Don't let them pressure you into anything you are not ready for. I saw the look on your face when they asked you about children and marriage." Sophie leaned against the counter. "They don't seem to get how things are different for you."  
"But you do?" Amelia put the last of the glasses into the dishwasher and started it. Thomas was nice enough to let her have the dinner in his townhouse. She didn't want to leave a mess for his housekeeper.  
"You aren't just a girlfriend. You're one of the bosses. The underlings might think less of you if you marry Thomas and give him more allegiance and respect even though, you both deserve it." So she did understand. "And if you have children, they become targets."  
"I couldn't do that to a child."  
"Mick and I discussed the risks. And we have five kids now. Granted our risks aren't what your and Thomas's risks are."  
"Sophie, are you trying to talk me out of marriage and kids or into them?"  
Sophie laid her hands on Amelia's shoulders. "I'm not trying to talk you into or out of anything. Others will. I'm just telling you to do what's right for you and Thomas. You make him happy. He makes you happy. Just be happy. If that doesn't involve marriage and kids, then oh well." Sophie's phone vibrated and let off her text message notification. "That'll be my mum."  
The ladies kissed and hugged at the door before Sophie bounced down the stairs and down the walk. Amelia watched as Sophie walked around to the passenger side and slid in. The two ladies in the Kia waved at her. She waved back then closed the door against the chill of the night. Thomas had his key so she locked it.  
Amelia opened a bottle of moscato and climbed the stairs to Thomas's room. She slipped off the jeans and her bra but left on her black cashmere sweater and the black satin and lace thong. After pouring another glass, she settled into Thomas's chair until he got home.

Thomas stood across the street from the smoldering building, his hands shoved in the pockets of his pea coat. He ducked his head down into the upturned collar to block out the chill. Mick stood at his back. The fire inspector stood next to Thomas.  
"It's definitely arson, Mr. Hiddleston. The whole lower floor reeks of petrol. Who'd you upset this time?"  
"People owe me money, Inspector Dawson. It could be any one of them."  
"Well, your building is likely to be a total loss. You are insured?"  
"Of course." Thomas practically spat. The chemical smell of the fire burned his nose and lungs. He felt like it clung to his clothes. The fire inspector walked off into the mess of fire responders.  
To look at the building, you wouldn't think it was a casino. The storefront was a haberdashery. The second floor housed the casino. The third floor was the V.I.P. lounge. The basement, where the fire broke out, housed the fabric stores for the haberdashery. The fire quickly spread through the heating system. Thankfully, all of Thomas's employees had left for the night before the fire. So when the building collapsed under the weight of the three floors, no one was injured.  
Was Thomas insured? Of course, he was insured. But it would still be a loss. The insurance wouldn't cover the true cost of the upper floors. Plus, he'd be out the revenue from the casino until the insurance claim could be processed, the building demolished and then rebuilt. He set his jaw, his hands clenching into fists in his pockets.  
This wasn't one of his debtors. This was the doing of one of his competitors. That arrogant Italian who had smelled of cheap cologne and American tobacco. The one whom the bartender had had to cut off. The one who tried to run a line of credit on the house but could fine no one to vouch for him and had to leave down by 3000 pounds.  
Mick cleared his throat. "How do you want to proceed, boss?"  
Thomas clasped his hands behind his back. More accurately, his right hand made a tight fist and his left hand held his right wrist. "Someone must have seen something. Canvas the neighborhood for witnesses. I want proof it was the Italian oaf before I take any course of action."  
"Yes, sir." Mick stood like a sentinel at Thomas's back as they watched the firefighters go through the rubble to make sure there were no more flames. He watched them soak the debris pile to keep embers from lighting again and to keep the dust down. The gawking crowd dispersed before all the emergency service vehicles had left. And still, Thomas stood, clenching and relaxing that fist. When the last of the cars and people had left, leaving the casino a smoldering pile of debris cordoned off with caution tape, Thomas sighed heavily and released his wrist. He plucked up his collar and stepped off the curb. Mick fell into step behind him. "Do you want me to take you back to Murderer's Row, sir?"  
"No." Thomas pulled up short before the rear passenger door. "I want you to take me home. I've just spent the last 3 hours watching a chunk of my revenue go up in flames. I want this night to be over. I want NOT to reek of smoke. And I want to fuck my queen. So please, Mick, take me to the townhouse."  
"Alright, Tom. Calm yo'self." Thomas sometimes forgot that Mick was truly his best mate. That's why he trusted him with his life so completely. He looked away from the truth on the rough features of his bodyguard and opened his door. He slid into the back seat and shut the door firmly.  
Mick chose not to say anything else as he drove the car to the townhouse. Thomas rested his head against the seat back. He closed his eyes and tried to quiet his thoughts. Amelia would not be happy about this. She would want action taken swiftly and mercilessly. After the rock salt incident, he saw just how ruthless she could be. He loved it. He loved her strength, her confidence, her independence. He saw why his grandfather had insisted on working with her and had suggested the partnership. Was this what Papa had intended all along?  
The car pulled up to the front door. "We're here, boss."  
"Thank you, Mick. Just take the car home. I'll get a ride into the office from Amelia in the morning."  
"G'night, Thomas."  
"Goodnight, Mick. See you in the morning. Give my love to Sophie."  
"Will do, mate."  
Thomas unfolded himself from the backseat and hurried up the cobbles and the stairs to the massive oaken door. Away from the fire, the night had chilled uncomfortably. His breath fogged the air as he unlocked the door and slipped inside. Warm air enveloped him in foyer. He dropped his keys on the table and hung the coat by the door. He'd have to have it cleaned tomorrow to remove the smell.  
The fire popped and cracked from the next room. He slipped his shoes off by the door and nudged them onto the mat, next to Amelia's heels and both of their trainers. He ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up, as he walked into the den. His chest tightened, stopping him in his tracks.  
Amelia had sprawled across his chair with one leg dangled over the arm, the other tucked under her. Her arms made a pillow under her sleeping head, a half drank wine glass dangled from her fingers. Her copper tresses had fallen over her face, her sweater gaped at the neck, teasing him with a glimpse of the tops of her breasts. His chest squeezed with love for her.  
He crossed the room quietly and gently slipped the glass from her fingers. He drained the last of the off-white moscato to rid his mouth of the taste of smoke. The glass made a soft tink on the table when he set it down. Crouching down in front of her, he brushed the hair from her face. "Ma reine?" Amelia stirred, curling her legs into her body and hugging tighter to the arm of the chair. He couldn't help but smile more at how cute she unintentionally was. He leaned over her and kissed her cheek. "Amelia, my love, I'm home." She hummed to herself but leaned up. Her eyes didn't really focus on him.  
Thomas turned off the gas fireplace. The fire sputtered then fell dark, darkening the room. He pulled her into his arms in a princess carry. Her arms draped over his shoulders, around his neck sleepily. His thumb caressed her thigh as he carried her up the stairs. She snuggled into his chest, breathing in his scent and the acrid fire smoke. "I love you, Thomas."  
"I love you, Amelia." He laid her on her side of the bed. He carefully pulled the sweater over her head, before sliding the thong carefully down her legs. Knowing it was one of her favorites, he draped the black cashmere over the back of a chair instead of leaving it in a pile on the floor. "I'm going to shower. Go back to sleep, my darling."  
The wine and the fire had warmed her and lulled her into a sleepy haze and now that Thomas was home, she felt safe and protected. Amelia drifted back to sleep. She didn't hear Thomas get out of the shower, but she felt him crawl into bed. His body spooned against her back, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Did the match go well?"  
"Hush, we'll talk in the morning." He tightened his arms around her and pressed his front to her back, burying his face in her hair. She smelled of apple and flowers and amber. Despite his words, his hand began to wander. The backs of his fingers brushed her chin and her neck then down her upper arm. He turned his hand so that his palm teased over her belly then her breasts, closing to pluck the nipples between his fingertips and the ball of his palm. She sighed and nestled more into him, her body responding to his touch. Thomas's hand glided down her belly then slipped between her thighs. His middle and pointer fingers traced her cleft, finding her warm and wet. He kissed her shoulder, pressing his hardened cock against her ass. "All I've wanted for the last three hours is to be here. With you."  
They sighed softly, his hands roaming her body where he could, their bodies sliding against each other simply to feel each other's skin. Contact. "Thomas..."  
"Yes, ma reine?" He needed her, to be inside her. His hand slid down her thigh and guided it open. Sleep and wine had made her pliable.  
"Do you want to get married?"  
Thomas had pulled his hips back and poised to enter her. He teased the head of his cock around her entrance, thinking on his words. He decided that honesty was the best policy. "The thought had crossed my mind. Are you proposing?" He glided his hand up her back.  
"No, mon chevalier, but we'd never discussed it."  
"My darling love, I don't need the bonds of marriage to know you belong to me." He pushed his hips forward until his cock seated balls deep within her. "This is all I need." They sighed together, sharing the moment of connection, of fusion. No, they didn't need a minister to tell them they were wed. Each time they kissed, touched, smiled, made love, they knew it. No, marriage didn't matter.  
Amelia whimpered and rolled her hips back against him. "Yes, Thomas." Their bodies moved in slow, languid rhythm. That is, until Thomas lifted her leg and pulled it back, opening her up to him. Amelia cried out, her body bending with the pleasure that spread through as the new angle drove him over her sweet spot. Thomas shuddered. He pressed his fingers into her thigh and thrust faster, biting his bottom lip. She reached above her head to grab the headboard.  
"Play with your clit, love. Cum with me." He closed his eyes and bowed his back, his ass and legs flexing each thrust deep, pushing against that sweet spot again. And again and again. Her foot dug into the bed as she braced herself, her body shaking. Amelia licked her fingers and did as he'd said. Her moans grew louder, her thrusts meeting his quicker.  
She whined with almost painful need. Release hovered right there. Just out of reach. Thomas griped her hair against her scalp and pulled. "Yes!"  
Thomas grunted when her body clamped down on him. "Fuck." He let go of her leg and smacked her ass.  
"Harder!" With a growl, Tom rolled her over onto her belly and jerked her hips back against him, plunging back into her. Amelia grabbed onto the headboard with both hands, her throaty moans becoming louder still.  
"You want me to fuck you harder?"  
"Yes!" He grit his teeth, digging his fingers into her hips.  
"Spank you harder?"  
"God, yes! Thomas!"  
Words fell away. He braced his knees apart and rutted into her, holding her by the waist, letting go to spank her hard. He ground his jaw together, breathing through his flared nostrils. His hips snapped against her ass. The head of his cock hit her sweet spot just right and her world exploded into white, dripping down her thighs.  
Thomas cried out as her walls undulated on him, clenching and releasing. He pounded into her until his orgasm swamped him like a wave. He collapsed, a hand on either side of her, withdrawing his softening cock. He kissed her between her shoulder blades. They folded to the bed and into each other, entwining fingers, arms, and legs. He kissed her shoulder.  
"Amelia?"  
She turned, on the verge of sleep, barely able to keep her eyes open. "Yes, mon chevalier?"  
"I love you." He kissed her softly, a firm press of lips repeatedly.  
"I love you, Thomas." They snuggled closer. Sleep crept in on quiet feet. Thomas watched her eyes close, her face smooth out into peaceful sleep. He felt her heartbeat and breath slow and steady. The fire and all the complications it would bring meant nothing. With her in arms, he had everything he needed. His eyes closed, his own body slowing and quieting.  
A string quartet and Frank Sinatra's soulful voice broke the stillness. Thomas came immediately awake. That was his grandfather's ringtone, Young at Heart. He rolled and grabbed his phone off the bedside table, answering the call the with a swipe of his finger. A glance at the bedside clock told him it was 2 a.m.  
"Papa, is everything alright?" Thomas slid out of bed so as not to wake Amelia. He padded quietly toward to bedroom door.  
"Thomas, your grandmother passed away."  
"Wha-" He braced his hand against the door frame, holding the phone to his ear in a white knuckle grip.  
"Belle's gone, son."  
"I don't understand." The air left his lungs. He leaned his forehead against the back of his hand on the door jam.  
"She went in her sleep." His grandfather drew in a deep breath. "She...she asked me to get in the bed with her. She dozed off as soon as we were settled comfortably in each other's arms. Then she was just gone." Thomas had never heard his grandfather sound so tired.  
"I'll be there first thing in the morning."  
"Alright, son. And Thomas?"  
"Yes, Papa?"  
"I love you."  
Thomas couldn't swallow the lump in his throat. "I love you, grandfather." He walked slowly back to the bed and sat down on the edge. His shoulders drooped heavily with the weight of the news. Her health had been fading for a long while. His only comfort was that her suffering had ended. His had only just begun.  
The tears dropped from his eyes. "Thomas?" Amelia rolled over and sat up. She hadn't heard the phone but she'd felt the bed move, with his leaving and his returning. "Baby, what's wrong?"  
He couldn't form the words. Saying them would just make it too real. "Go back to sleep, darling." His voice trembled. Thomas heard the sound of her sliding across the crisp sheets. He felt the light touch of her fingertips on his back and shoulders.  
"Mon chevalier, tell me." Her lips tenderly touched his shoulder then she pressed her cheek there.  
Thomas drew in a deep breath. "She's gone, Amelia. My grandmother." He turned to her, open and raw and aching. Her heart broke to see him shattered as he was. His pain writ his features with how deeply her death effected him. It didn't matter that Belle had been ninety years old. It didn't matter that the cancer had ravaged her twice. Nana Belle had been a golden angel in his life since he was a boy, especially after his parents died. Thomas owed his strength of character to her. She'd raised him to be a good man, a strong man, a powerful man. And now, she was simply gone. It was too much to take.  
Amelia pulled him to her. "I'm so sorry, Thomas." He buried his head in her chest, curling his body around hers. His body shook with his sobs. He held her tightly, for dear life. If he let go of her, she'd fade away and he'd be left alone. Amelia held him closely, wrapping her body around his. She stroked his hair gently and kissed his head, until he fell silent. Once more, they fell into sleep, entwined together but not the same as before. He had broken, shattered and she held him together.


End file.
